


dust won

by pineovercoat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Animal Death (Brief Mention), Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Imprisonment, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Spoilers Through Poe Dameron #14, Uneasy Allies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:22:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineovercoat/pseuds/pineovercoat
Summary: Barefoot, plainly dressed, and curled tight against the far wall, Ren was a far cry from the hulking terror he’d seen in the interrogation room aboard the Finalizer. It was difficult to believe he was even the same person without that strange, inhuman mask and those sweeping robes- almost as difficult as believing that he was the Ben Solo he’d known, or at the very least, a monster wearing his face. But there it was, the proof right before his eyes, from his mole dotted skin to his large nose, so like his father’s. The thought made him shiver.Once, Poe’s mother told him that the galaxy, even during its darkest hours, was fundamentally a good place, and Poe still believed that. But at times like these, he couldn’t help but think the galaxy also had a shit sense of humor.(Written for the KnightpilotExchange 2017.)





	1. hard landings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zoe_Dameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoe_Dameron/gifts).



> For the prompt: Both are prisoners of Snoke; Poe because he's a valuable member of the Resistance, and Ren because he failed so poorly with Starkiller.
> 
> So I tweaked it juuuust a little bit, but I think it stays true to the spirit of the idea. I added in some stuff relevant to your other prompt as well. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit: 10/18- Doing rewrites during Nano! Some things may change, but mostly it'll be expanded, lol.

Scouting wasn’t usually in Poe Dameron’s orbit- that was more of Snap’s thing. He flew whatever missions the Resistance asked of him, of course, but by his own admission, he was at his best when he was in the thick of things, his squadron at his back.

So, naturally, it followed that a solo scouting mission would be the one to land him in hot water; specifically, an ambush over a backwater planet in the Outer Rim by several First Order TIEs.

The first impact, he could manage.

The hit registered before the sound; it was like time, space, _everything_ , slowed down, and then righted all at once, flooding his senses in overwhelming flares of light and the shrill piercing of alarms. Support systems, sensors, the ship itself, metal screaming as it tore free; the power to one engine was out, and there wasn’t enough time to try to bring it back online. But three engines were fine, he could fly on three.

It was the second impact that caused the fuel leak, cutting power to all his engines and forcing him into a glide, one that would surely end in a crash landing.

It was funny; the swoop of a rapid descent never got any easier. The fear, instinctive, never got any easier- the ground was rushing closer and closer, Poe hurtling towards earth with the words _terminal velocity_ blaring through his mind (maybe not in a strictly scientific sense, but a terrifyingly real one all the same) as he struggled to keep his fighter in a glide. They were losing altitude at a rapid pace; the borrowed astromech behind him was whirring binary, as loud and insistent as the alarms in the cockpit. All around him, there was light and sound and heat, and yet all he could think about was his exhaustion.

Poe Dameron was tired.

He’d had more close calls, more last moments, than he’d ever dreamed of surviving, and the sad thing was that at this point, seeing the holo reel of his life was getting a little old. It was something of an ungrateful thought, he knew, but he thought it still- constant near death experiences weren’t all they were cracked up to be.

Of course, the memories were no less precious to him, no less important, but after all he given to the Resistance, the thought of not being around to see it through to the end- he wondered if any other pilots thought it, too -if they’d had the chance to think before being scattered amongst the stars- of what they’d given, and what they’d never live to see, and if it left any bitter taste in their mouths.

_But then_ , he thought, _if this time is the time- if I don’t make it-_

He followed the path his memories traced; the Resistance, and all the bright souls he’d met because of it, of his squad, BB-8, and a brave stormtrooper who’d taken the name Finn; he thought of humid and carefree summers on Yavin4, of the days the Solo-Organa family would come calling, and the havoc it meant for his parents; he thought of his mother, his father, of the empty A wing in front of his childhood home; he thought of becoming stardust, and a calm sort of determination flooded his veins. _No, not this time. The universe isn’t done with you yet, Dameron. For better or worse-_

His borrowed astromech screamed about the TIEs on their tail, and the ground lurched forward even closer as he worked the systems left, prepping the craft as much as he could.

Poe blew out a breath, and braced for a hard landing.

-

On any given day, there was a stunning amount of information that was brought to General Leia Organa: mission plans, reports, communications- virtually endless responsibilities, and all of them of critical importance. With her own X-wings flying, the Vice Admiral and her fleet to deal with, and the political involvement of the New Republic, it was almost enough to make her wish for the good old days- when it was just the Resistance and the First Order, and all the politicians were dancing around the notion that there could be a legitimate threat against the galaxy rising from the ashes of the Empire.

Credibility came at far too steep a cost. Leia knew that intimately.

It haunted her, whenever sleep proved elusive, but there was nothing any of them could do except take the hit in stride- the galaxy didn’t stop for any tragedy, no matter how great. She couldn’t, either- there were careful negotiations ahead with some Mid and Outer Rim planets ahead, terrified of the the First Order’s stunning move toward open war. They were seeking alliances, and offering resources, that they desperately needed.

Lieutenant Connix caught her on the way to one such briefing, looking pale and anxious.

“General,” she began. Her voice was tight. “There’s a message for you. It’s urgent.”

Of course it was urgent. Everything was urgent. But she was so shaken; it gave Leia pause.

“What is it, Lieutenant?”

Connix swallowed. “It’s from the First Order- General Hux, himself.”

Leia frowned, and let Connix guide her to where the holo was waiting.

“General,” Hux greeted. 

Leia simply raised an eyebrow.

He hesitated for a moment, and Leia kept her smirk to herself as he recovered.

“I’ve just received word- it appears one of my squadrons made quite the discovery. I believe you’re familiar with him? One Poe Dameron, holding the rank of Commander in your … _army_ …”

An image flickered before her- proof enough that he spoke the truth.

“We will not negotiate,” Leia said firmly, shutting down any further prattle.

The war couldn’t stop for one man. As a General, she trusted her Commander to understand. They were stretched thin enough as it was, no resources or crew to spare or to risk on a single soldier whose whereabouts were unknown in a wide galaxy. And with Rey and Luke on Ach-To, two of their last best hopes non-players for the moment… they would not give an inch.

_I’m sorry, Poe_.

Leia gripped her forearms tightly under her sleeves to ground herself, and indulged for a moment in imagining it was Hux’s neck she was wringing. She closed her eyes briefly, and phantom voices rang in her ears-  _no star system will dare oppose the Emperor now- you may fire when ready-_

“Just as well- there is no desire nor need for diplomacy here,” Hux continued. “It should be obvious that we are not interested in negotiations or surrender, but total annihilation.”

_I’ve faced many men like you_ , she thought, utterly unmoved by his grandstanding. _They thought they could end the Republic, Alderaan, the Rebellion, the Resistance. Look who’s still standing._

“And there is nothing your _pathetic_ Resistance could offer us regardless,” he added primly.

It took all of Leia’s composure not to trade looks with Connix; instead, she stared ahead, face blank, and let the man speak.

“The man has been nothing more than a pest from the start. He will not escape again. It is our intention to _dispose_ of him- he is far more trouble than he is worth.” He paused, letting his words sink in.

“But not before he serves one final purpose.”

Leia leaned in close, hands tight around the edge of the table.

-

His astromech had been thrown loose- Poe couldn’t see it, but he assumed it had been destroyed in the crash, and he was sorry for it. Sorrier, still, that he didn’t have the chance to go look. He’d only just left his trashed X-wing, bruised and aching but otherwise okay, when the TIEs caught up; he hardly had time to register confusion that they were tailing him instead of bombing him into pieces from the skies. A small transport followed- he turned and bolted, running on the last fumes of adrenaline, and a fresh batch of stormtroopers gave chase.

He ran in zig-zags as well as he could manage, headed nowhere in particular as quick as his aching legs could carry him.

_Run_ , his mind screamed, and his body obeyed.

Nothing about this was right. They weren’t shooting to kill. Lights whipped past his head, glowing blue- set to stun. They wanted him alive, and they were gaining.

He jumped, barely avoiding a blast, and as soon as he landed, he knew he’d botched it- his left knee wobbled and gave way, a sharp pain coursing upwards through his body. He shouted, and stumbled, and was hit. All of his nerves were on fire, his body in shock; he fell down, face first, and stayed down. His pursuers were not far behind. Poe struggled to get his limbs moving, but they refused to work, slow as anything and stinging like pins and needles. The troopers were on him now, hauling him up and backwards roughly. He could do nothing but take it. His left leg hurt where he put weight on it, and the rest of his body ached, from the crash and the stun blast both.

Dizzy and nauseous, heaving for breath, he felt his vision start to tunnel.

_What a lousy day_ , he thought, and blacked out.

 


	2. the odd couple

He’d come to as he was being relocated- shoved up a boarding ramp, a cloth bag over his head, his body screaming in protest.

The novelty of being frogmarched places was really wearing thin, and the stony silence of the stormtroopers who’d caught him wasn’t helping. Not a single one of them rose to his taunts or his attempts to fight; he was ignored entirely. After a while, Poe gave up, knowing that the struggle would only waste precious energy. It was a shame; it didn’t work often, but he’d gotten out of enough scrapes by provoking his opponents into doing something stupid.

He let himself drift as they hustled him on board, keeping his head down and covered. The corridors took twists and turns as he was led through them. Poe gave up on memorizing any of it after the first few changes of direction. He was too sluggish and disoriented to keep up, his thoughts slipped away like water.

They moved at a clip until they reached their final destination. It didn’t take too long- that was good news. Maybe the ship wasn’t so big, wouldn’t have a huge crew to subdue.

Or maybe it was massive, and he’d barely traversed any of it in his time aboard. He hoped for option A.

A sharp, final turn, and they halted. Poe heard a door hiss open somewhere in front of them, followed by a series of whirrs and clicks. He was escorted through, and a strange smell greeted him, filtered through the canvas over his head- something mildly musky, and a bit like the decay on a forest floor.

He didn’t have too long to dwell on it; one of the troopers put a hand on his neck, pushing him forward. There were more whirring noises, and at last they let go of him, dragging the cover from his head and shoving him forward into a cell. He hit the far wall and stayed there, finding his balance as the blood rushed to his head. Stars, but he was glad they’d at least taken the bag off.

Behind him, the doors hissed shut.

_Great. Just great._

He took stock: Taken prisoner on a First Order ship of unknown size, in unknown territory, cuffed, injured, with no witnesses to his capture, no weapons on him, and no plan of escape.

He’d had worse odds. Maybe only marginally, but he’d had worse. He heaved a sigh at the ceiling, and steeled himself to scope out the rest of the room, thinking he might as well find out what he was dealing with. He pivoted- and stumbled backwards immediately, startled at what he found. When he finally processed what he was seeing, it damn near sucked the air out of his lungs.

His cell had a twin, and it was occupied.

It would have been far too much to hope that Kylo Ren had died on Starkiller Base. Fate wasn’t that kind.

Barefoot, plainly dressed, and curled tight against the far wall, Ren was a far cry from the hulking terror he’d seen in the interrogation room aboard the Finalizer. It was difficult to believe he was even the same person without that strange, inhuman mask and those sweeping robes- almost as difficult as believing that he was the Ben Solo he’d known, or at the very least, a monster wearing his face. But there it was, the proof right before his eyes, from his mole dotted skin to his large nose, so like his father’s. The thought made him shiver.

Once, Poe’s mother told him that the galaxy, even during its darkest hours, was fundamentally a good place, and Poe still believed that. But at times like these, he couldn’t help but think the galaxy also had a shit sense of humor.

Ren didn’t seem any more willing to acknowledge him, for the moment, than Poe was, thank the Maker. He tore his eyes away from him and took deep breaths, trying to calm the acid panic rising in his chest.  _Find out what else you’re dealing with, Dameron,_ he thought. _Focus on that._

His eyes slid back to his own cell. It was shut with some kind of complicated interlocking interface; there were no locks, and Poe couldn’t see any seams in the bars. He didn’t hear any electricity, or smell it, either- he didn’t think he’d be electrocuted if he touched them, but he’d have to test that first.

He moved on, and quickly found the source of that earthy smell- ysalamiri, in their own cages. Poe was familiar with them- Force suppressing lizards. It was hard to get them to survive, off their planets, but not impossible. One flanked Ren on either side of his cell, far enough away that he couldn’t reach them, but near enough to effectively cut off his connection to the Force. It definitely explained why he hadn’t ripped into his mind, or killed him on sight.

But there was nothing in the room that offered any clue as to what they were both _doing_ in it. This was a First Order ship. Poe’s imprisonment made sense; Ren’s did not. They made quite the odd couple.

That was a thought he didn’t particularly feel like mulling over at the moment, and so he settled down to drop into an uneasy sleep. Agitated as he was, his body was truly exhausted from the whole ordeal- it came in unsteady waves, dragging him under. His last thought, before passing out, was that this whole mess would still be waiting for him when he woke up. If he was sure of one thing, it was that.

-

When Poe woke, it was to a stormtrooper sliding rations to him- no electrified field around the bars, he noted. They gestured him forward, but he hung back, cautious. He was trained to handle rough treatment, sure, had been through some of the worst of it before- but there was no way he was going to invite it through his own stupidity.

They waved him forward again, the mask divulging nothing, and he stared back, eyes narrowed. There was a blaster slung across their back, and a thin canister in their hands- he fixed his gaze there. They seemed to understand his apprehension, and showed him the bottle- bacta spray, or so it was labeled. This was far better treatment than he ever expected from his stay, and most likely too good to be true; he didn’t move. Frustrated, the trooper sprayed it at him. Poe flinched back, bringing his arms up in front of his face, like that would help at all.

The stuff smelled foul, just like bacta, and when he didn’t wheeze, choke, or develop any horrible chemical burns, he relented and shuffled forward. The stormtrooper stayed out of grabbing distance, spraying the bacta around his rubbed raw wrists, and his other minor scrapes and cuts. No bandages- he figured they didn’t want him fashioning a garrote. Or a noose.

Whatever they were planning to do with him, they wanted him not to die of infection, or otherwise, before they did it.

As soon as the trooper was finished their work, they left in a hurry. But he still felt eyes on him. He glanced over, and sure as hell, Ren sat watching him, stony-faced. It wasn’t charitable, but Poe wished the stormtrooper had demonstrated the aerosol was safe by spraying it at _him_ instead. Ren deserved a good scare, amongst other things.

Poe shuffled back, and resolved to ignore him.

It didn’t last long. Try as he might to disregard it, he felt those eyes burning holes into the back of his head.

Poe sighed, and turned to face Ren. “Is it always gonna be like this? With the staring and the uh, intimidation? ‘Cause if that’s what you’re going for, listen, it doesn’t work as well without the bucket on your head.” Or the powers, he didn’t add.

Ren said nothing.

“What is it?” Poe said, not even bothering to disguise the irritation in his voice. “Something on my face? You’ve got a little something, too-” He raised his arms to point at himself, drawing a line from his eyebrow diagonally across his cheek, the movement vicious. “Looks pretty nasty, wonder how _that_ happened.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t acknowledge the comment. Instead, he inclined his head and gave him a thorough once over. Poe squared his jaw in the face of his scrutiny. He got the distinct impression he was being judged, and found wanting.

At last, Ren spoke.

"Commander Dameron," he said, and gave a regal sniff. "The best pilot in the Resistance- no, the best pilot in the galaxy. Is being captured simply a personal hobby of yours, or have galactic standards fallen that far?"

Poe bristled, growling, and then felt distinctly annoyed at himself for letting Ren touch a nerve.

“Catch me in the skies,” he said archly. “We’ll see who’s laughing then.”

Ren snorted. “Look around, Dameron. You’re grounded." 

“Looks like we both are,” Poe returned, sugar sweet.

Ren scowled, face coloring spectacularly. Rather than respond, he put his back to Poe and tucked himself against the wall, effectively ending the conversation.

_Good,_ Poe thought, a little snide, and turned as well. His knee throbbed weakly. _If I’m stuck here, I may as well spend my time pissing you off._

-

A cycle must have passed, at least, when he woke again- the trooper with the ration bars was back, this time with water. Just like the last time, they left as quick as they came, stopping only to check on the lizards.

It was curious. They were, for the most part, left alone- and compared to his other stints in prison, his stay was practically pleasant. Apart from his current roommate, that was.

Normally, Poe might have been glad for the lack of attention- it meant more time to plan, to find a weak spot to exploit, more of a chance to surprise his captors. But he’d never been this cornered, this completely empty-handed. He would have liked to get the drop on a trooper, or convince one to help, somehow; snag a pod, escape the ship, get back to the Resistance and leave this nightmare behind him- but he couldn’t. Their guards were scarce, and when they did appear, they were very resistant to his attempts to speak with them. They checked in briefly, and fled the room as if something were nipping at their heels, preferring to stand watch outside the doors.

It seemed that Ren was enough of a ghost story to them, even defanged as he was, that they didn’t want anything to do with him. As if he even needed another reason to curse Ren’s presence.

But Poe couldn’t blame them. Even without the horrific powers, creepy headgear, and murderous agenda, he was hardly charming company. And as a conversation partner, he left a lot to be desired. In lieu of a mask, he laid the attitude on a bit thick.

No matter- Poe could talk enough for the both of them.

“So, buddy- what are you in for?”

Nothing. It figured- he went on anyway.

“That bad, huh? See, I’m guessing I’m here cause the guys in charge are mad ‘cause I helped blow up their shiny new toy- I bet I’m on all sorts of wanted lists. I’m famous, you know- infamous. Have they gone around bragging about it yet- _the_ Poe Dameron, at their mercy?”

Ren blew a noisy sigh through his nose- his nostrils flared rather spectacularly.

“Any clue if your people have told my people I’m here?” He didn’t really expect any answers- he was just thinking out loud. It served the dual purpose of letting him order his rapidly moving thoughts, and irritating Ren- which he was always game for.

“Because I’m thinking the General-” Ren flinched, and Poe went on, a hard smirk on his mouth, “- _your mother-_ won’t do any exchanges.” The truth was, they didn’t have any important prisoners to exchange, or even any resources they would be willing to part with. Who knew if there had been any attempt made at communication- for all Poe was aware, he was on his own. He was fine with it, as much as he could be- he’d been here before.

But if he was such a high priority target for the First Order, then what was he still doing here? Surely his status was “kill on sight”. Any way he could slice it, he was better dead to the First Order than alive.

That left him at being sold to bounty hunters, maybe, a quick buck for the stormtroopers on board... But as far as he knew, they didn’t take those kinds of risks, and they had _Ren_ , too- why risk detection, or the fallout? Something bigger was happening. It all begged the question-

“Why am I still alive?”

“How should I know?” Ren rasped. His indifference was far too practiced, too deliberate, to be real.

“Shouldn’t you?” Poe raised a brow.

“I don’t know how this managed to escape you, Dameron,” Ren said slowly, as if he were speaking to a child, “but I’m in the same exact situation as you.”

“So, you have to have an idea,” Poe pressed, wrapping his hands around the bars of his cell. “It doesn’t make sense- they haven’t tried to get any information out of me. They’re barely guarding me. It can’t be leverage… and they’d have to realize the Resistance wouldn’t negotiate for my release anyway. I’ve been enough of a pain to the First Order- they’d want me dead, first thing, right?”

“I wish they would,” Ren muttered. “I was enjoying the silence.”

Poe ignored him, and Ren let out an irritated sigh.

“You have a brain, Dameron, I’m sure you can figure it out.” He drawled on, tapping a finger to his temple. “Obviously you’re not unintelligent, I’ve been up there-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Poe growled. He hardly needed the reminder of who he was dealing with. He was going to trade him some kind of jab, but then it dawned on him, slow and horrible, the feeling of tipping over the edge into freefall. “...it’s going to be an execution, isn’t it? A public one.”

“Congratulations,” Ren said, drier than Jakku itself. “You’re not quite as stupid as a herd of nerfs.”

“Why?” Poe demanded. He knew the long and short of it was ‘because they could’, but he wanted to hear what Ren knew.

“It is the opinion of the First Order,” Ren began, lip curled like he was reciting a speech he’d heard many times and absolutely loathed -Poe was willing to bet it was one of Hux’s- “that the New Republic is illegitimate- a conglomerate of terrorists, traitors, and cowards, and the Resistance it supports is the worst of them all. No one affiliated with the Resistance is a lawful combatant, and as such they are not protected under the laws of warfare-”

“Not that any of you comply with those anyway, or any treaties, actually-” Poe began, heated.

Ren spoke over him. “ _As such_ \- you shall not expect the treatment of a prisoner of war. Perhaps you’ll receive a trial, if they’re feeling generous- but it will be brief, and of course, you’ll be convicted. ”

“They want me to be an example,” Poe said, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. A few day’s worth of stubble rasped across his calloused palm, and the sound amplified in his ears, a ringing that was almost dizzying. “Of what it means to oppose the First Order.”

As if the entire Hosnian system- all the victims of this war- all the lives lost spanning _decades_ weren’t enough-

Ren drew a line across the floor of his cell sharply, from left to right- a line in the sand.

“They intend to remove you from the fight. Definitively.”

“And destroy morale in the process,” Poe surmised. It wasn’t a boast- he knew his reputation. No matter how hard he tried to drive the point home, that the destruction of Starkiller Base had been a group effort, and no one pilot should take the glory, especially with all the sacrifices that had been made- he knew what the execution of the pilot who landed the killing blow would mean.

He knew dying for the Resistance was a possibility- but not like this. Not in a way that would make the struggle harder for his people, still fighting. He doubled down; he simply couldn’t let it happen. He had to find a way out.

But still, the thought left him reeling.

“So that’s me,” he said. “But why you?”

“...they had reason to doubt my commitment.”

“Okay,” Poe hedged, waiting for much-needed clarification, but Ren fell silent. Poe tried to get him talking again, at first chattering away, then switching back to provocation, but for the time being, he could get nothing else out of Ren.

He let it go, but knew it wasn’t going to be for long. The First Order had “reason” to doubt Ren’s commitment.

Poe scented blood.


	3. shop talk

The minutes passed in silence, dragging into hours. Poe waited.

It was some time later, after another watch had changed, that Ren finally snapped, letting a fist fly into the wall. It cracked loudly, but he paid it no mind, launching himself into a furious circuit of his tiny cell.

“This is _asinine_ \- Starkiller was his folly, and yet Hux walks free,” Ren raged, pivoting around another corner.

“Okay, I seriously do not care,” Poe said, watching him round his tiny cell again. “You’re where you belong regardless.”

Ren rounded on him. “Where I belong,” he snarled. “Yes, people are so fond of telling me where I belong.”

Poe had nothing to say to that, so he didn’t.

Ren snorted, angry as a beast, and traced his route again around his cell. “ _Starkiller_ \- it was foolish from the beginning,” he ranted. “I’m glad it ended in failure- I said as much to him, the incompetent-”

“So,” Poe interrupted, “was that what you did? To get stuck in here with me?”

Ren turned a baleful eye toward him. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Poe was good enough at cutting through bantha shit to know that he meant-  _why do you care_? He supposed he had an answer, deep down, one that went further than just ‘it might be beneficial to me to know’- but it was not one he was willing to examine at the moment, much less share.

He simply shrugged. “Got nothing but time. So- why you?”

It took a while for Ren to respond- long enough that Poe thought he must be avoiding the subject again, or else had read Poe’s nonchalance for the smoke bomb it was, but eventually, he spoke.

“An example,” he said. The face he pulled must have been something else, because Ren scoffed. “I told you we were in the same situation. Whether for doubt or treason or a simple defeat, this-” he gestured broadly around their shared prison, “is what happens when you fail the Supreme Leader.”

That got Poe’s attention. He leaned in, pressed against the bars. “So which one was it?”

“I told you- _Starkiller_ -”

“Yeah, you said,” Poe replied. “But here’s the thing- I don’t believe you.”

Ren breathed in sharply, and looked aside. After a long silence- it seemed he was rather fond of them- he spoke. “Snoke knows.”

His mouth twisted. “He knows that killing- that what I did didn’t make me any stronger, in the Dark. That none of it did. It only ever weakened me- but I was weak from the start. I failed to alert them to the traitor-”

“ _Finn_ ,” Poe said fiercely.

“-before he was able to free you. ...I left _you_ alive.”

Poe made a choked sound, but Ren went on, the words flowing from him like a river.

“Because of my oversights, the Resistance was able to get a hold of the map- I underestimated the scavenger, was unable to defeat her, I was too weak- all because I couldn’t shake the Light-” He yanked at his hair, frustrated.

“You ever think that’s because it’s where you’re meant to be?” Poe said gently. He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, thinking back on Ren’s outburst, but thankfully, he didn’t answer. His face was shadowed, hunted.

The air was too heavy. Poe had to break the silence.

“So will you be killed, too?”

The look Ren turned on him was utterly disparaging. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Poe opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut with a click. He’d struck a nerve; it left Poe feeling unsettled. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he wanted anymore, now that he was confronted with the reality of Ben Solo- the thought terrified him.

He went quiet, fuming, but held his gaze, thinking he could chase down the truth, or else some flicker of emotion, of sentiment- something that would break down the walls between them. If he could sense any of Poe’s internal struggle, Ren didn’t let on. He simply studied at him at great length, not backing down from the fury of Poe’s stare.

“No,” Ren said slowly. “I don’t think so.”

He broke eye contact, ending the spell. He frowned at the cell around him- the bars, the indignity of capture, the twin ysalamiri in their own cages flanking him. “This is a punishment,” he muttered, “but I’m still one of his greatest assets.” He looked ill as he spoke, staring at his palms.

 _You mean one of his greatest weapons,_  Poe almost replied, but thought better of it.

“Snoke,” Poe prodded, instead. “What does he want?”

“He’s looking for the girl- the scavenger. Doubtless she’s reached Skywalker already- but that won’t matter.” Ren shook his head bitterly. “He’s led students away from him before.”

Poe’s lips folded into a thin line.

“So then, that makes you…?”

“Insurance,” Ren said, dully.

Poe scrubbed a hand across his face, waiting- he knew the score. If he held out long enough, Ren would explain himself.

True to form, Ren sighed heavily and continued.

“If he gets to her, she will kill me for him, to prove her worth as an apprentice. If he can’t, I will still be available to him- and where else would I turn? The way the war is going, there would be no sense in opposing him, not with- what I’ve-”

Ren sighed, and thunked a fist against the wall. It lacked his usual violence. “He was using me. He always was.”

Poe shoved a hand into his hair, rubbing at the pressure steadily building in his skull. “You’re not gonna hear me say this again, pal, but wow, I do not envy your life.”

Ren actually laughed. “No,” he said. “But I could say the same of you.”

“Victory kids,” Poe murmured, thinking of the future their parents had wanted for them, had fought for tirelessly, dedicated their lives to. It seemed far, far away now. “How the hell did it end up like this?”

Ren hung his head, and Poe frowned.

“Do you ever- I wish I could just close my eyes, and go home. Don’t you?”

“For what,” he spat, eyes boring into Poe’s. “To end up behind another cage? To go to another certain death?”

One step forward, a million steps back. Poe blew out a breath. “That’s not what I-”

“Of course it is,” Ren said. “I know your mind- you just want my death to be at the right hands.”

Poe rolled his eyes- it wasn’t worth addressing, much less arguing over, especially when they were discussing hypotheticals. Ren was baiting him, spoiling for a fight, and Poe absolutely refused to let himself bite.

“Tell me,” Ren said, “do you ever imagine you’ll be the one who gets to do it?”

“Some things are bigger than the scores we want to settle,” Poe answered. “I’m not the law. I’m not a politician, or a judge _..._ I’m just a pilot. I don’t get to decide what happens to you.”

“But do you think you should?” There was an odd urgency to his voice. It made Poe’s blood boil.

He clenched his hands into fists, skin pulling tight over muscle and bone; a deep breath, and they fell open, each finger releasing. Poe put all his focus on dulling the edge of his anger, but he was tired, so tired, and Ren’s presence was a whetstone, sharpening emotions he thought were long dead.

“What I think doesn’t matter.”

“You’re the Commander,” Ren pressed. “You’ll likely be made an Admiral. Isn’t it what I deserve?”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. This is _war_ ,” Poe hissed. “A lot of people don’t get what they deserve, and that goes both ways.”

That gave him pause, but Ren backtracked, undeterred.

“But you have thought about it.” Ren lurched forward, sinking to his knees, crowding in close to the bars. He wrapped his long fingers tightly around them, claw-like, a bloodless white against the durasteel. Even plain as he was, without the uncanny gaze of his mask and the nightmarish shadow of robes, there was a violence in his eyes, a gleam Poe couldn’t quite attribute to predator, or to prey. “I know you have. Being the one to do it.”

Poe clenched his jaw. “Stop it.”

“I could feel the thought, almost as soon as you had it- you clung to it, in that chair, as I was walking out the door. Vengeance, and anger-”

“Shut _up_ ,” Poe growled, his teeth grinding in his skull.

“Or what?” he said smugly. “You’ll make it hurt, when the time comes, make it last? I’m sure no one would think less of you-”

“Shut the fuck up, _Ben_ ,” Poe snarled.

Ren reared back as if he’d been slapped, and Poe pushed forward, pressing his advantage.

“If this is what we’re doing, if we’re dredging things up, I’ve got a trip down memory lane and a _list_ of grievances to share with you. So you decide if this is the hill you want to die on- I’m game.”

Ren was silent.

“That’s what I _thought_ ,” Poe snarled, and turned over, fuming, wishing sleep would just take him so he didn’t have to think.

But sleep did not come easy. Shoving the conversation into the back of his mind was like constantly fending off enemy TIEs- chanting a mantra of _don’t don’t don’t_ _don’t_ like he was firing off proton blasts every time he started to think about Ren- who he’d been, what he’d become, and what he thought he deserved. He tossed and turned to the clip of the stormtroopers’ march, eyelids drooping but then nodding awake with a snore every time the old ship clanked. Thud, shuffle, thud- arms wrapped tight around his middle, he finally, finally nodded off, letting the din be his lullaby-

_There was a resounding crash, and then silence._

_Stupefied, Poe rose slowly from his spot on the floor, arm still outstretched where he had the ball firmly in his grip. “Well, that sounded expensive.”_

_Ben picked his way through the ceramic shards and hovered over him, hands shaking._

_“Are you okay?” Ben gasped, eyes darting every which way, checking for scrapes or any blood._

_“Ben?! Poe?!” It was like clockwork, the panicked call from the other room. Immediately, Ben’s face burned bright, right to the tips of his big ears. In that moment, the world was ending, shame and the dread of the inevitable consequences all collapsing around him with all the drama only a child could feel- we are gonna be in so much trouble._

_“Aww, man,” Poe lamented. “Look at your guilty face- maybe if you ever went outside you wouldn’t be so obvious-”_

_“Shut up,” Ben hissed, the color in his face growing even higher. “This was your stupid idea-”_

_“Okay, maybe, but-”_

_“Boys?!” There were footsteps thudding down the stairs towards them now, and they both panicked._

_“You’re not bleeding, though? You’re okay??”_

_“I’m okay,” Poe said, grabbing at Ben’s hand. “Hey- I’ll say it was my fault- it was my idea to even do this inside-”_

_Ben looked taken aback. “But, I-”_

_“I want you to be able to visit again, dummy, so just go with it!”_

_“...you think they wouldn’t let me?” Ben said, with hushed urgency._

_“I don’t know, man, you’re clearly a danger to you and everyone around you.” It was a joke, but it landed somewhere tender, because Ben recoiled immediately, shoulders hunching forward._

_“-especially houseplants,” Poe tried to recover lamely, but Ben just looked even more miserable. He curled in on himself, frowning deeply._

_“Hey, now,” he said softly, reaching out for Ben’s hand, “we’re in this together, right?”_

_Ben frowned, his cheeks sucked in as he thought. “Yeah,” he decided, with all the heartfelt gravity of a childhood oath, and took Poe’s hand. “Together.”_

_Poe’s squeezed his hand tight, looking over the carnage._

_“We’re dead,” Ben said mournfully._

_“So dead,” Poe agreed. He couldn’t help the bright note of cheerfulness in his voice; their hands were still linked. They were comrades-in-arms or, more accurately, thick as thieves- Poe, bored young boy that he was, was absolutely delighted to have a partner-in-crime._

_That was how Kes and Luke found them, sprawled on the floor, wide-eyed like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. There was a spider’s web of fractures in the sliding door behind them, and scattered soil everywhere, shoddily swept to the side with the flats of their palms. It painted the perfect backdrop to their tableau of feigned innocence. Luke sighed, and Kes frowned._

_Poe traded glances with Ben. Between the two of them, they had the worst liar in the galaxy, and the face most like an open book- but still, partners._

_Poe turned to his father, giving him a jaunty, soil-blackened wave. No sense in delaying the inevitable._

_“Hey, Dad- what’s up?”_

Poe jolted up, sweating, terrified- he rolled over and looked to Kylo Ren, thinking he must be in his mind, pulling the strings again, before his good sense caught up and reminded him- the ysalamiri- he couldn’t.

So then- where had _that_ come from...? Poe stared at him, like his sleeping form would offer up any answers, but instead of seeing Kylo Ren, he saw the Ben Solo of his memories- face streaked with dirt, rather than a scar, and grinning crookedly like he was about to share the best secret. For a moment, he still felt his hand in his own.

Poe shook his head. Bone-tired, he laid back on the ground. As soon as his eyes shut, he was out.

-

When Poe woke this time, he woke with a plan. It was stupid, it was reckless, and it was exactly what he was good at.

 _Together_ \- the little part of him that saw Ben Solo in this phantom’s pale dotted skin insisted. He was there, in his large nose, his churlish manner, and somewhere deeper, behind the eyes-  _we can make it out of this together._

It tore at him- this was Ben, and he was in danger. They both were. They could get out of it. They could stand a chance, could work out a plan, if they teamed up.

But this was also Kylo Ren, rotting in a prison cell. To say he hadn’t imagined this very situation with a particularly vicious and righteous sort of fury would be an outright lie. And if he did nothing, he would likely stay that way. Or be killed, if Snoke found him as useless as he said- it would be at the cost of Poe’s own life, and a hard blow to the New Republic, but wasn’t that worth it, to keep him out of the picture?

Kylo Ren. Here he was, across from him, behind bars at last, his powers suppressed, a threat to no one. Wounded, cornered, defeated- not at the hands of the Resistance, but still, it was  _something_ \- here he was, rotting, and Poe couldn’t take a single scrap of comfort from it.

He didn’t want Ren under Snoke’s heel.

He didn’t want to die, either.

“Hey,” he whispered, decided. Ren didn’t acknowledge him.

“Hey,” he hissed again, even more urgently. “What do you say we get out of here?”

That caught his attention. Ren turned to him, frowning thoughtfully. “I say you’ve crashed your X-wing a few too many times.”

“Very funny, but I mean it- if we put our heads together, we can get out of this. This isn’t outside of my realm of expertise- we can do this.”

“I’m well aware of your exploits,” Ren said.

“Then you’ll know I’ve done this before. Very successfully.”

“Have you?” He sounded completely and utterly bored- it was a trick Ben always used to pull, whenever he was annoyed. “I wasn’t aware.”

It occurred to Poe that maybe he was still a bit sore about one particular spectacular escape from the Finalizer- good. He pressed on anyway. “You heard about Megalox Beta, right?”

“Yes,” Ren said softly. “Grakkus the Hutt’s escape.  A crime lord- kingpin to bounty hunters, smugglers, and thieves. He once captured my uncle and collected him as a living Jedi artifact, then forced him into a fight to the death, while a crowd took bets on the survivor. It was a favored pastime, forcing creatures to kill each other.” He looked up at him with the blandest, most casual expression. He knew it all already, and still he asked, the _ass_. “You freed him?”

Poe blew out a breath and sank against the wall. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“You’re in the wrong line of work- you could make a career of spiriting criminals out from the bars they belong behind.”

Poe made a face at him, but chose not to tug on that thread. “Look,” he said. “Here’s what I know. We’re on our way to a First Order prison. I don’t want to die there. I’m betting you don’t either. You help me, and that’s at least one thing you get to choose for yourself.”

“How do you know I won’t betray you?” Ren’s voice was cool and even.

“I guess I don’t,” Poe said. “But I’m out of options, same as you. The way I see it, either we end up murdered in our cells, or executed, or we take over this ship and have a fighting chance at something. Die, die, or maybe live... I’ll take it.”

Ren mulled over that, and then spoke. “Is it really worth the risk to you?”

“Of course. They don’t get to use my death. They don’t get to use me.” Poe said firmly. “I won’t let it happen, and I’m sure as hell not going to sit around and wait while I can still do something about it.”

Ren frowned, brows creasing.

“So what do you say?”

Ren shook his head, holding up a hand to shush him. Poe bit his lip, and waited.

“Alright,” he said at last. “I’m with you.”

 _What even took you so long_ , he thought, but nodded at him anyway. “Alright- I think I‘ve got a plan.”

Ren shifted towards him, listening, but Poe froze. The distinctive scuff of stormtroopers’ boots was headed right for them- early, for a change of the watch, and far too many. Poe gestured wildly for Ren to make himself scarce, and he simply raised a brow. Rolling his eyes, Poe slid to the far corner of his cell, and set about feigning sleep.

Just in time, too- the metal doors slid open to four of them. Safety in numbers, he supposed. Poe peeked at them through barely slitted eyes; they came to a stop in front of Ren’s cell, paying Poe absolutely no mind. That suited him just fine. He heard a voice greet Ren, but strained to hear what he was saying. After a few moments, Poe gave up entirely on any pretense of secrecy, and shuffled over to where he could see and hear.

The shape in blue glow of light confirmed what he suspected, from the sound of the clipped accent- Hux was the one speaking.

“-I have no doubt you’ve been enjoying solitary confinement, but lucky for you, you’ve had an opportunity fall right into your lap.”

“The days of the First Order’s secrecy have long passed,” he continued sharply. “So, the Supreme Leader believes, have the days of disguising your ...origins. We are at open war, and there are rumors of the Jedi returning to turn the tide- you may have failed to destroy them, but you _will_ destroy that hope, and any hope, in the legacy of the Jedi. This is how you will regain the Supreme Leader’s confidence.

You will arrive at your destination, and report to Commander Dameron’s execution. You will reveal yourself as the grandson of Darth Vader, the nephew of Skywalker, and the son of Leia Organa, and you will kill Poe Dameron. Are you clear on this?”

Ren nodded.

“Good. You will be briefed further when you arrive.” With a sneer, he added, “Perhaps you’ll redeem yourself after all.

“Perhaps,” Ren murmured.

The holo flickered, and was gone. Ren looked up at the troopers holding it, giving them a quick, sharp nod; on his mark, they pivoted smartly, and exited through the heavy metal doors.

Poe’s heart was racing, pumping adrenaline through his veins. He’d heard of what happened to the General’s career when the truth of her parentage was revealed- what would it mean for the war when it became public knowledge that her own son followed in those dark footsteps? And if he followed through-

If.

The silence itself seemed to have a presence, making Poe’s mind sluggish, his tongue feel thick in his mouth. The way Ren had said it- _perhaps, perhaps, perhaps..._

Poe cleared his throat. “So, um, wow. That guy sure loves to hear himself talk.”

The look Ren threw him was incredulous, and Poe snorted.

He recovered neatly enough. “It does seem to be an unfortunate habit of the company I keep.”

“ _And_ he has a rather high opinion of himself,” Poe mused, neatly ignoring the dig. He recalled several of his many irritating encounters with one intelligence officer in particular. Terex, at least, had been as entertaining as he was arrogant. He cut a glance at Ren. “Is that a thing? You wanna be in the brass, you’ve gotta be insufferable? Seems like it’s a First Order job requirement, at this point.”

Ren rolled his shoulders, then spoke. “Incompetence, as well.”

Poe turned to look at him. Ren frowned and shifted back towards his wall, drawing his knees tight against his chest.

“Oh,” Poe said slowly. “You made a joke.”

“I hear laughter helps alleviate stress,” Ren said, absolutely dour.

“I’ll ...take a raincheck. How long do we have? Before we arrive?” A renewed sense of urgency pounded through Poe’s veins.

“A few more cycles, maybe,” Ren said, hugging his knees. “They won’t be using hyperspace lanes- they won’t want to draw any unwanted attention before we arrive.”

Poe swore, and felt silent. The hours were pressing on him now, heavier and heavier, until he felt like he was being crushed by the looming weight of them. He took stock of the situation- no weapons, no astromech, no back-up. No one knew where he was, and he was on a stealth ship that was carrying Kylo Ren himself- there would be no place more secret in the entire galaxy.

The worst part of it all was that he’d been here before. It seemed that lightning did strike twice, after all. The bright side, at least, was that he had nothing left to lose- only his life. The darkness of thought made him laugh abruptly; Ren shot him a glare for it.

Poe wiped at his eyes, and then turned to Ren. “But you’re not gonna do it- are you? You’re still in? We’re breaking out of here?”

Time seemed to slow down as Ren opened his mouth to speak.

“No,” Ren said firmly. “I won’t do it. I’m still with you.”

“Okay," Poe said. "Follow my lead.”


	4. kids and heroes

“ _That_ was your grand strategy?” Ren said dryly. “No wonder the Resistance is failing, Commander.”

Maybe challenging a stormtrooper to a one on one fight for bragging rights wasn’t the best plan (it hadn’t really worked the last time he’d tried it, either), but he didn’t really see any other option than trying to get one close enough to knock out. Ren could do it, surely- but none of them dared get close enough to him, and without access to his powers, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

“I don’t see you helping,” Poe snarled, at the end of his patience. “Believe me, I am open to suggestions.”

Ren opened his mouth, then shut it.

 _Exactly,_  Poe thought, and set about regrouping. Their situation was getting desperate. He couldn’t try to attack the next one outright- if they escaped, they’d never have another chance.

“....there is something,” Ren said, gnawing on his lip.

“Okay,” Poe said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enlighten me.”

“There are five troopers who rotate watch duty. The last one in the rotation, the one who brings us meals- she is the one in charge of our imprisonment. And she feels doubt.”

“What?” Poe hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“The girl,” Kylo insisted, agitated, “With the food, and the bacta. She wants to leave, she wants out. She may be sympathetic. I felt it in her, before-” He gestured broadly to the ysalamiri.

“Speak to her,” he said, “convince her.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“She feels doubt,” Ren repeated, like that meant anything to him at all. Poe shook his head, but Ren cut him off. “And, I’m sure, none stronger than when she delivered Hux’s message. I’ve been watching her- she might help us, find others to help us-” he said, picking up steam. “You seem to have a knack for drawing in the rebellious ones.”

His eyes shined in the dim light, and Poe was shaken by it, how his dark eyes burned like his mother’s, passionate and intense.

“You’re a  _leader,_ ” Ren said fiercely, wrapping his hands around the bars. He leaned as far forward as he could; his gaze met Poe’s with a desperate kind of fervor. “You inspire.  _Inspire her."_

A memory of a conversation he’d had with the General echoed in his ears- ‘ _I think you’re one of those rare beings who help other people fight- who will inspire, and give hope when all seems lost, and convince our people to keep going when they don’t think they can.'_

Poe swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “You were thinking about this already- how long, why didn’t you-”

“She would never have listened to me, never trusted me. But _you_ \- she believes in you. You’re a good man-”

“ _Alright,_ ” Poe rasped. He couldn’t take it. “Alright. But are you sure? If I screw this up, and she talks…”

“As you so love to remind me, we are out of options. I’m willing to take the risk. And I don’t see you coming up with anything better.”

That was true, but Poe wasn’t going to admit it. He nodded tightly.

“We’re on the third rotation now,” Ren said. He looked weary, all of a sudden, but the fire was still there, burning low- it was an expression that was all too familiar to Poe. He slumped against the bars. “She will arrive soon enough. We need to make a plan.”

-

The girl arrived on time, with the usual rations.

Poe glanced at Ren, and he nodded, sinking into the shadows like they’d agreed.

When she deposited his portion, Poe cleared his throat softly. Her mask bobbed a bit as she turned her attention to him.

“I just wanted to tell you- thank you,” Poe said, and she startled a bit.

“I mean it,” Poe said earnestly. “You never had to be this kind to me. It’s made it not so bad, in here, knowing what’s coming. And you take good care of them, too.” He nodded at the lizards. “You’ve got a good heart.”

She wavered in her spot, unsure. “I- you’re… welcome?” It was so human, and it sounded so strange, filtered through the helmet. She hovered for a moment, hands loose at her sides, then nodded awkwardly.  

“You remind me of someone,” Poe said, as she was turning away.

She looked at him over her shoulder. He couldn’t see her face, but he was sure she was throwing an incredulous look under that mask.

He laughed. “I know, I know- it sounds weird. But there was this stormtrooper who escaped-”

“Stars, I thought it was you,” she hissed excitedly, pulling off her helmet. She was heartbreakingly young underneath the bucket, with brown skin, and tightly curled hair cropped close to her skull. “You know him? FN-2187?”

“He was the one who busted me out,” Poe said, eyes wide.

“You were the pilot,” she said, beaming.

“I was the pilot,” he answered, wry. It was starting to be a familiar call and response.

“Tell me about him- what was he like-”

Poe leaned forward, as caught up in her excitement as she was. It was _working._  “He was scared as anything, muttering to himself the whole time- _‘stay calm, stay calm’_. He lied to the trooper guarding me and got me out, walked me out of a holding cell with a blaster to my back, through a whole crowd of officers and troopers, right up to the docking bay, and got us into a TIE- we stole a _TIE_ , right out from under their noses- it was _crazy._ ”

“He’s amazing,” she said, eyes lighting up. “Every stormtrooper knows about him- but officially, nothing ever happened that day on the Finalizer. Training accident. We’re forbidden from discussing him, or what he did- some of us still do, though. I can’t believe you _know_ him- FN-2187! Is he okay?”

“Last I checked. He’s leading missions for the Resistance. Brave kid. His name’s Finn now- what’s yours?”

“...JR-071,” she said slowly, almost ashamed.

Poe’s eyes softened. “Have you ever thought about picking one for yourself? Something that’s a bit more- _you_?”

She leaned forward conspiratorially. “Zera,” she said. “I haven’t worked out a last name yet. I might save that for if I ever find my family, but… Zera, for now. I think that sounds nice.”

“Zera,” he smiled. “It does sound nice.”

She smiled back, open and friendly, her white teeth shining, and Poe felt a vice around his heart, a deep ache for all the stormtroopers- kidnapped from birth, stolen from their families, raised into weapons. Brainwashed, Finn told him, forced to work in units but discouraged from forming bonds of loyalty, of family- the ultimate allegiance, the only allegiance, was to the First Order. Used, chewed up, and spit out by the machine; Poe felt a twinge of guilt, same as when he’d seen an opportunity in Finn’s bid for freedom, but he was going to use her, too. He hoped, at least, that it would be mutual.

“Listen, Zera. I think I can help you find them- your family.”

She stared at him, confused.

“I want to make you a deal, if you’ll hear me out. You know who I am, you know who he is, you know what’s going to happen. If you get us some things- just a few things- we can get ourselves out of it. And you can, too.”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean- escape?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Poe went on. “But it won’t take a lot-”

“I can’t-” she said, eyes wild.

“You _can_ ,” Poe said. “Trust me, you can.”

“But you’re surrounded- how will you-”

“I’ve had worse odds. And we have a lot of power in our corner.” He flicked his eyes towards Ren’s cell. “He’s just as done with this as you.”

She followed his gaze, gulping. “...what if they catch us?” she asked, voice trembling.

“They won’t,” Poe assured her. “Not if we’re smart about it. I’ve got a good feeling about this- my story doesn’t end here. Yours won’t, either. What do you say?”

She bit her lip.

“I know you’re scared,” Poe murmured. “I know it’s a leap. But sometimes- we have to take that chance. We have to have a little faith.”

“He will guarantee you a place on a New Republic base,” Ren interjected. “One of the escape pods, a location, a pardon- should we make it out of this, that is.”

He’d been a silent third until this point. Startled, they both whipped their heads to face him. 

“Won’t you?” he said, staring at Poe.

“Yes,” Poe said, slowly. He made a face at him, hoping his frustration would come across-  _you ass, I can’t guarantee any of that_ \- but Ren stared forward, determined. Poe shook his head, and looked back to Zera. “Yeah. A ship, a contact- and if you want to join the fight, we always have a place for someone like you.”

She glanced back and forth between them, and let out a breath.

“What do you need?”

Poe could have whooped in relief. “Tell me everything you know about this ship.”

She nodded, and laid it out for them as quick as she could- the ship was a Corvette class, a transport from the days of the Imperial Senate, modified for stealth, meant to stay under the radar. A favorite tactic of the First Order- Terex’s had been similar. It was staffed with a skeleton crew of about twenty-five, for secrecy- Poe marveled at their arrogance- and finally, their cell always had two armed guards.

“So here’s what I’m thinking- you set us free, we take out the ysalamiri. You get me a blaster, and I’ll be golden- he’ll cause a distraction- and _you’ll_ take an escape pod, and get yourself out of this mess.”

“What about you?” she frowned.

“We’re taking the ship,” Poe said grimly. “We’ll need the firepower.”

“This sounds-”

“I know,” Poe said. “But it’s the best chance we’ve got. _And_ we have a Jedi.”

Ren made a noise, and Poe shut him up with a look.

“But I- I can’t bring in another blaster,” she whispered. “My shift partner will know. And if I shoot the lizards first, they’ll still hear it, and they’ll signal for backup. You won’t have time, and you won’t be armed. We’ll all be caught. Our orders are to dispose of you only if it’s absolutely necessary, but-” She shot a glance at Ren, stiff and silent in his cell.

“At that point, it will definitely look necessary.”

Poe rubbed at his temples. “The element of surprise is what this all hinges on,” he murmured. “You couldn’t find a- a vibroblade, or something?”

“I don’t-”

“Please,” Poe urged. “You have to try.”

She bit her lip, and glanced back to the doors. “I’ll try.”

Ren made a cut off noise in his cell, and Poe frowned furiously at him. “Just bring me something, anything. We can pull this off, I’m sure.”

“What about  _him_ ,” she whispered, leaning in close, a note of true panic in her voice at last.

“Once the ysalamiri are taken care of,” Ren said, firm, “I won’t need anything.”

 _Way to be absolutely terrifying, pal,_ Poe thought. _Let’s leave the talking to me for the foreseeable future._

She gulped, and nodded slowly. “I can uncuff you now. But- I can’t bring you anything. You’ll have to wait for my next watch.”

“That’s fine,” Poe said, moving closer to the bars. She reached through, unlocked his cuffs with a click- he immediately put his hands up where she could see them. She gave a tight little smile, and backed up, moving to leave the room.

“Zera,” Poe said carefully. “You have to uncuff him, too.”

She flinched, and moved towards Ren’s cell. He held his hands out, still as a statue, and she made quick work of them, too. He drew back, cradling his hands to his chest, and Zera looked visibly calmer.

“I have to go. I’ve already been in here for too long,” she whispered. “Wait for me. Next rotation. I’ll be back.” With that, she fit her helmet over her head and left them behind. He heard some muffled conversation as she exited, but it seemed to blow over easily enough. He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

Poe sat back, and stared at the empty space she left behind, her last words ringing in his ears.

Could they really trust her? Out of options, out of options- Poe’s mind raced. If she blabbed, if they knew the two of them were collaborating, the tail end of their journey would not only be highly unpleasant, but their extraction would be organized such that they had no time or chance to stage another escape attempt. Perhaps Ren would resist, wouldn’t participate in Hux’s grand show- he would still be imprisoned, however Snoke saw fit, and Poe- Poe would have his execution awaiting him, no mockery of a trial, just brutal efficiency. That was it- the end.

He chewed on his bottom lip slowly, and finally glanced up to find Ren staring at him, a questioning look in his eyes.

“She’s gonna sing,” he said, glum.

Ren looked at over him consideringly, rubbing his wrists. “Have a little faith.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Poe said. It startled a laugh out of him, and it grew until his shoulders were shaking with the effort of holding back. It was infectious- Ren ducked his head, laughing too. It was short-lived, but genuine. A small spark of something lit in Poe's chest. It felt a lot like hope.

“So- nothing to do but hurry up and wait. Hey, you wanna hear about the time I-”

“No,” Ren interrupted, easy, familiar. The quirk of his lips betrayed him. He settled back against the wall and inclined his head. “But you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Aw,” Poe let his legs stretch out in front of him, pointing his toes, feeling giddy and childlike. “You’re mean.”

It was probably the anticipation, but he was downright effervescent. After all, the writing was on the wall, and now it was just a matter of time. He looked up, and found Ren staring back at him, a curious expression on his face. Poe couldn’t parse it, so he didn’t try. Instead, he swung his arms in circles, loosening up. “How about the time I flew right out from under Terex- and his entire fleet’s- nose?”

Ren snorted, and stretched out too, his bare toes flexing as he grabbed them with his fingers. “...I’m listening.”

Poe told the story as best he could, with only a few choice embellishments, and after he was done, he told more. He continued talking even when the troopers traded shifts- he talked, and talked, and talked, running on adrenaline, lost in memory.

Ren spoke up too, trading his own stories- of the Knights of Ren, of the incompetence of First Order officers, eventually trickling into tales of the times he’d crossed the galaxy with Luke, searching for artifacts.

They went on like that, one after the other, until the oldest stories, the ones that felt forbidden, were left. Poe took the gamble.

“You remember, when we were kids? And you’d come over, and sometimes we’d play heroes? With sticks for lightsabers, going all kinds of adventures, talking about how great we’d be, when we got older?”

Ren fell silent, looking sad and distant. He turned back towards the walls of his cell, and folded himself into the corner, hidden in the shadows.

“We can’t all grow up to be heroes,” he said.

Poe, for the life of him, couldn’t place his tone. He wanted more than anything to reach out, to wrap an arm around his shoulders and haul him in close, heads bent together to whisper, to plot and plan, like they had as children- but he couldn’t.

Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes suddenly hot and wet. He put all the cheer he could muster into his voice.  “Why not?”

“Poe…”

He exhaled hard, and his shoulders shook. “I mean it. Why not?”

There was a flurry of movement, and Ren was kneeling before his bars, pushing against them like he was trying to phase through them. Poe echoed him, a perfect mirror, leaning forward until the cool metal bit into his arms. The gap between them was so slight, and still so wide; Poe reached a hand out to him, and just barely, Ben caught it, hooking their fingertips. It hurt, but he held on.

“How is it that you can still believe that, Poe? How is it- that you still-?” Ren’s chin was trembling.

“Because I know what’s right,” Poe whispered back. “And I know you do too, Ben.”

He opened his mouth to speak, eyes shining with tears- but his head whipped towards the door when he heard the now familiar tread of stormtroopers’ boots.

The doors to their makeshift cell slid open with a mechanical hiss, and Ben rocketed back as if he’d been thrown. Poe followed suit, slinking away a little more slowly. Their guards carried on with business as usual- so Zera  _hadn’t_ sold them out, at least, not yet.

The spell between them was broken, but the image of Ben’s sad, dark eyes was burned into his brain.

He was still angry, still hurt and betrayed- of course he was. And there were things that Ben had done that were unforgivable- of that there was no question.

But, still- his mind turned and turned, thinking; of the burden of legacy; the immense power that was the Force; of whispers in the dark, spoken to a child; of corruption, of redemption, and that refrain- _perhaps, perhaps, perhaps._

He settled back into his favorite spot, and let his head thunk back against the wall, hoping the cool metal would leech away some of the storm he was feeling inside. The ‘what ifs’ were howling winds. He didn’t want to deal with them until the moment came.

There would be no further discussion while they waited for Zera to come back- Ben needed the time. Poe did, too.

He closed his eyes, and drifted.


	5. together

The plastic click of armor announced Zera’s return. She was early. That set Poe on edge.

“I had to come back before they reviewed the footage,” she explained, placing her helmet on the floor next to her. She smiled wide, and unclipped a vibroblade from her belt, waving it at him. Poe felt a momentary twinge of panic, but then it hit him.

Stars, this was really happening. They were really gonna do this.

He rose up as she moved close. His legs held steady.

“We won’t have much time after I unlock the cells- it’ll ping immediately. We have to be fast.”

She freed Poe first, then Ben. As he stepped out of the cell, she handed off the blade to him. He accepted it, testing its grip. Ben moved to the far wall, by the door, giving the ysalamiri a wide berth.

“They have to die,” he reminded them, hovering. “We can’t risk them being used against me. I am sorry for it.”

Poe fought the urge to roll his eyes- he was sorry, but of course, they had to be the ones to do it. Zera took one, and he took the other. He felt awful, killing it, but Ben was right- they couldn’t take that chance. As soon as he made his cut, he felt- less muffled, somehow, like his ears had popped, finally adjusting to a new air pressure. As for Ben, he swayed where he stood, overwhelmed.

“A moment,” he said, breathless. “I need a moment.”

“We don’t have a lot of those,” Poe replied. “You’d better get it together, quick.” He could spare a little sympathy for _after_ this was over.

Ben grimaced, and rubbed at his temples. They waited half a beat, Poe wiping the blade on his trousers, lamenting how filthy he was. When he was done, Ben was ready.

“Alright,” he said, blinking hard. “Let’s go.”

Zera led them, the doors sliding aside as she moved. Immediately, a white helmet whipped around to face them. Ben thrust a hand out, and the trooper was scrabbling at their neck, already held aloft.

“No!” Zera cried, lurching toward him. “No! She’s with me, she’s with me!”

Ben’s head tilted as his hand torqued- Poe recognized the gesture. He was reading her mind; Poe made an unhappy sound.

“Ben,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

“So she is,” Ren murmured, and released her. The girl jerked forward, free, and tugged her helmet off, gasping for breath. A neat red ponytail came loose, and even though she was panting, her skin was blanched pale, eyes wide to the whites. Zera gripped her forearms, calming her.

Ren looked contrite, but said nothing, only nodded briefly. With a flourish, he stalked his way down the corridor- following the connection to his lightsaber. Poe didn’t envy anyone who crossed his path.

“The watch,” Zera explained. “I explained it all to her, and she traded shifts with my regular partner- I forgot to tell you. She wants to help- you can take her blaster! She’s- she’s-”

“Trustworthy,” Poe said, taking pity on her. He turned towards the other girl, trading her the vibroblade for the blaster. “Thank you. I’m really sorry about that- we weren’t expecting you.”

She coughed weakly and nodded, waving him off. Zera held her close as they waited for Ben to return.

They didn’t have to wait long.

The acrid stench of destroyed machinery was their first warning, followed swiftly by the blare of alarms ringing throughout the ship’s corridors.

“ _Move!_ ” Ben roared, a red blur streaking past them.

“I think that’s our signal,” Poe said cheerfully.

Zera straightened, breathing hard. He caught her by the arm, bringing her to face him. “Go. Get anyone else you know who wants out onto those escape pods-”

“But- you-” Zera began.

“Don’t worry about me,” Poe said firmly. “Find your way to D’Qar- the main base has moved, but we still have an installation there- ditch the armor, and ask for Suralinda Javos- remember, Suralinda Javos-”

Zera nodded, repeating him.

“Good. Tell her what happened here, and that I sent you, and this is payback for Pheryon. She’s good people, she’ll get you wherever you need to go. Now- get the hell out of here.”

She nodded, wide eyed, and jerked past him, but he stopped her again.

“Thank you,” he said, and with the most sincerity he could manage- “May the Force be with you.”

She nodded again, sketching a quick salute, and joined hands with the other trooper, who was beckoning her fiercely.

He watched them go for half a moment, letting the sight of them buoy his spirits. He hoped fiercely that they would make it, that they would have their shot at a new beginning, and a better galaxy to build it in.

“ _Poe_ ,” Ben called, impatient.

And just like that, the klaxon wails rang in his ears again. He pivoted, present once more, and moved to his side.

“The cockpit is this way,” Poe said, all business, drawing on his memory of similar floorplans. The layout was fairly straightforward, anyway. “We fight our way there, and then the rest will come to us.”

Ben nodded, twirling his saber. He took point, and Poe fell in behind him, covering their backs and giving quick commands as they hurried their way forward. Ben followed, blazing a path as he advanced, willing doors open and cutting troopers down when they came running. Poe picked off the few who ran at them from adjacent corridors, and made sure the ones who went down stayed down.

They worked well together (Poe tried not to dwell on it) and before long, they reached the final set of doors.

“You ready?” Poe asked.

Ben nodded curtly.

He breathed out in a whoosh, everything catching up to him all at once. He let the fear have its moment before setting it aside and clearing his mind. With a shake of his head, he summoned up his usual swagger, and leaned forward to whisper to Ben. “Then so am I.”

He took the corner on one side of the door. Ben took the other, and gave him one last tight nod.

The door opened.

Blasterfire was waiting for them.

It was a strange counterpoint, the methods to their madness. Where Poe took careful shots, all deadly precision, minimizing risk and maximizing damage, Ren whirled through like a storm, leaving light trails and smoke behind him. Everything was blue, then red, then bright burning light. When he blinked, the flashes were seared into his eyelids- and all around him was the hum of electricity.

Ben shot through the room like Poe cut across the skies and stars in Black One- he thought, briefly, that he’d love to see him fly again, love to knock him flat fair and square, just one more tick mark on a score that was way too huge to ever settle anyway.

The took the cockpit quickly, and the ones left on the ship who were still able to engage came to them. The fighting was fierce, because they’d backed themselves into a corner, but it wasn’t particularly hard. Their shots glanced off the walls- they weren’t very good marksmen.

Poe had a close call when a bolt came his way, but it froze, hanging jewel-bright in the air. He cut a glance towards Ben, and ducked. As soon as he was out of its trajectory, it ripped free, hitting a stormtrooper beside him in the chest.

He shook the moment off, and threw himself back into it, keeping them clear of Ben as well. He took any shot he could, and did his best not to think of the faces under those helmets. The crowd was thinning out- they were  _winning._

Time passed quickly after that, now that there was an end in sight, a bright hope to reach for- everything did, like the blur of space at lightspeed, like it always did when he had a mission. He went from fixed point, target to target, until finally, everything was stillness and silence, the aftermath of a storm.

“Is there anyone left?” Poe asked, breathing hard.

Ben cocked his head, reaching out with the Force. “No,” he said. “That’s all of them.”

Poe turned toward the console, examining it- he already knew he could fly it with his eyes closed. He shut off the alarms, and the distress signal, though who knew how long it’d been squawking. They needed to make a move, and yet he stood still, running a hand over the controls, trying to delay the inevitable.

The moment Poe had been dreading, from the second Zera opened his cell door, had finally come. Reality set in.

It was just the two of them now. Him, and Kylo Ren.

Poe focused his breathing, in, out, in, out, trying not to telegraph his intentions. Surprise had gotten him this far.

He pivoted, whipping his blaster with him, and aimed it squarely at Ben’s head. His hands rocketed up to cradle the handle, lining up his shot, keeping it steady. To his shock, no pressure, no artificial gravity weighed him down. He could feel every muscle, the twitch of his finger over the trigger, and Ben- Ben stood his ground, staring mildly down the barrel.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said.

“I have to-” Poe responded. “I can’t not try.”

Ben frowned.

“You had to-” Poe said, choked. “You had to know. That I couldn’t just- let you go.” It wasn’t quite an apology.

“No,” Ben murmured thoughtfully. “No, I didn’t think you would.”

_Shoot, just shoot_ \- a dark part of him railed, and Poe licked his lips, adjusting his grip.

“But you are outmatched,” Ben said simply. “You know this.”

He kept the blaster between them, moved the sight to Ren’s heart. It meant nothing, would do nothing, should he pull that trigger; he was intimately familiar with that knowledge. But it was still a semblance of control, some small comfort, and he clung to that.

“I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.” Poe made a sorry attempt at a grin. “Even if I die, at least I tried.”

There was a breath of a pause between them, and finally Ben spoke, his head inclining over the stretch of his arm. “You always do.”

Poe felt the prick of tears in his eyes, threatening to overwhelm him. He centered on his breathing instead, running odds, possible outcomes, but it was useless. Instinct, flying with caution thrown to the wind and everything on the line, that was where Poe’s talents truly shined. Figure it out, and win- that had been his strategy often enough. Everything unfolded from there. There were some things you just couldn’t plan for; part of being a pilot was expecting the unexpected.

But Ben wasn’t done. “You will do what you must,” he said, lowering his hand, “and damn the consequences.” His arm was still raised, outstretched, but there was no tension in it, no violence. The lightsaber hung at his side, crackling.

“But you were always so quick to play the hero.” His head tilted. “The tide of this war doesn’t rest on you alone.”

The memory came unbidden-  _pilots are important, Poe, but they don’t win wars. You need something much rarer for that._

_You’re more like your mother than you know,_ he mused. Ben flinched.

“Maybe,” Poe said. “But I’m thinking, right now, that it kind of does.” His finger twitched over the trigger.

“Do what you will,” Ben said. “Ease your conscience.”

“How about,” Poe paused, swallowing around the lump in his throat, “you ease yours?”

He held himself steady, hoping this latest gamble would pay off, and spoke.

“You have a choice.”

“Do I?” Ben replied, affecting the politest surprise.

“Sure,” Poe said, breezy. “Do you want the chance to make this right?”

“Don’t condescend to me with useless platitudes,” Ben snarled, suddenly furious. “There is nothing I could do to make any of this _right._ ”

“Well, at least you understand that,” Poe muttered. “Fine, Darth Semantics, do you want the chance to do _better_?”

Ben glared at him, jaw tight, fist clenched at his sides.

“I’m a pilot,” Poe said carefully. “Better than most. Better than you. And I’m a lot more, uh, palatable in Republic airspace than you are. You’re wanted on all sides, you have to admit I have the advantage here. This?” Poe indicated the battle scene around them. “-isn’t over.”

“This ship is a pretty much a sitting target; we’ll have to ditch fast, get something inconspicuous, refuel, and get gone. Think about it- you have the advantage of most of the Order not knowing your name, or your face, and I have the advantage of not being universally despised.”

Ben pulled a face, but made no other complaint- Poe plowed forward.

“I have the codes, I have the rank, you have the coordinates of a First Order prison installation, other valuable intel, and the _Force_ \- we keep working together, and we get you back to the Resistance, where you’ll meet- well, whatever’s waiting.” And whoever’s waiting, Poe thought, but he was sure Ben understood his meaning.

His mouth twisted, opening to argue, and Poe cut him off neatly.

“Look- it’s safer territory for the both of us, definitely for _you_ , than anywhere else in the galaxy.”

“This... isn’t much of a choice,” Ben groused.

“It’s the best one you’ve got, pal. Die when the swarms come, because we waited too long to make a decision, die in prison, or confront your mother,” Poe teased, tapping out the options with the fingers wrapped around the grip.

“I think you can amend that last one to die, too,” Ben said, turning away. His voice sounded thick. Poe let him have the joke- he knew a little something about gallows humor. “It is the likeliest outcome.”

He lowered his blaster, cautious, but unafraid. “Something makes me think that’s not how it’s gonna go. So the way I see it- it’s die, die, maybe live. That last one? Worked out pretty well for us just now,” he offered.

Silence. He sighed.

“For argument’s sake,” Poe began, and dropped into a chair, suddenly completely exhausted. He felt heavy enough to fall through it, and through the durasteel below, to plummet like a stone through space, and fall endlessly through the stars- impossible though it was. He kicked the other chair out, swiveling it to face Ben, and deposited the blaster onto the console, never breaking eye contact. “For argument’s sake, if you could go anywhere- where would you want to go?”

Ben took a halting step forward. He thumbed down the power on his saber, tossed it aside, and at a tight smile from Poe, took the seat beside him. When he glanced over, he looked so devastatingly young, that it was almost as if no time had passed since they’d last seen each other, as young men just barely reaching for their bright futures. There were tears in his eyes- Poe felt them stinging at his, too.

Ben looked over him, and then past him, through the transparisteel, across the expanse of the stars. His gaze was mournful, faraway. When he spoke, his voice was unsteady.

“I-” he choked. “I want to go _home_.”

His face crumpled, and he slumped forward onto the console, shoulders wracked with sobs. Poe moved immediately, stooping into a crouch before him. He reached out to grasp his arm, and Ben leaned into him hard.

He was still barefoot, Poe noted absently, bringing his arms up around Ben’s shoulders. He returned the embrace, shaking. When he pulled away, his face was blotchy, his nose turning red. For a man so large, he’d never looked smaller.

“You look awful,” Poe said, not unkindly.

Ben snorted, scrubbing an arm over his eyes.

“Not that I’m much better,” Poe muttered, aiming for levity. He carded a hand through his own greasy curls. “We’ve both had much better hair days, that’s for sure. And smelled significantly less ripe, too.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ben wrinkled his nose.

“Oh no, buddy, I’ve had to smell you for the past few days- trust me, that was worse than the Finalizer.”

Ben shoved at his shoulder, and Poe smiled at the easy affection. He covered his hand with his own, squeezing briefly, and they both fell silent.

“You really wanna go home?” Poe whispered carefully, into the fragile peace.

Ben nodded, mute.

“Okay. Okay. We’ve gotta get a move on. I’ll get you there- but I’ll need your help, buddy.”

He started shaking again, and Poe reached out to squeeze the back of his neck, drawing a soothing thumb over his skin. Ben nodded again, fiercely, a heavy sob rattling from his chest.

In that moment, he almost felt like they were young all over again, adults in name only, standing on that precipice, looking out at the stars and imagining what the future had in store for them, wondering where the other shoe would fall. This wasn’t a brand new start, not really, but-

“Hey,” he said softly, offering a hand. Ben took it, held it tight.

“Together?” he asked. His voice was small, but hopeful.

Poe smiled. “Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It's done! My first completed fanfic!! If you got this far- thanks! Although trying to write in canon is a TRIAL, I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you had fun reading it!
> 
> Sorry I couldn't get it to be more explicitly shippy- I feel like they still have a lot of shit to work out, but it's a start? I think leaving them both at a place of "my way home is through you" gives them room to find their footing around each other, and try to pick up the pieces. Who knows what'll happen on their grand adventure across the galaxy- maybe I'll even get around to writing it at some point. ;P


End file.
